


Let There Be Light

by Jadesfire



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-26
Updated: 2010-03-26
Packaged: 2017-10-08 08:07:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/74479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadesfire/pseuds/Jadesfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything comes back to John in a rush, and not much of it is good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let There Be Light

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to [](http://pwcorgigirl.livejournal.com/profile)[**pwcorgigirl**](http://pwcorgigirl.livejournal.com/) and [](http://rustydog.livejournal.com/profile)[**rustydog**](http://rustydog.livejournal.com/) for the lightning-fast beta.

  
When John wakes up, the rush of sensation is almost too much for him, and he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to ride out the memories of feelings, the echo of pain that he can't quite remember. His legs feel cold, but his arms and shoulders are warm, held in a close embrace, his cheek pressed to something soft. Everything feels weirdly calm, and it takes him a moment to realize that the steady thump he can hear is not his own heartbeat.

Slowly, he blinks his eyes open, instinctively taking care in moving his head, although he's still not quite sure why. Mary is looking away from him, her hair a pale glow in the dim light from the street lamps. Her breathing is rough, labored, and her heart is beating too rapidly in John's ear. When he tries to speak, his throat is too dry to get a sound out, but she turns quickly, a loose strand of her hair brushing against his cheek.

"John?"

There's no time to focus on her face, even if he could get the blurring out of his eyes, because she's already leaning down to kiss him, her hands cradling his cheeks. The gesture should be comforting, the warm familiarity of her touch, her lips, but John shudders despite himself. Mary's lips are wet, were wet before he kissed her, and the way she's holding him is possessive enough to scare him. There's something in the way she's kissing him, fear and passion in a heady mix that's doing nothing for his confusion, and at least a little of that desperate relief that he sensed in her earlier. It's how she kissed him when he picked her up from her parents' house, happy to see him in a way that said more about the place she was leaving behind than wherever it was they were going.

He's lifted a hand to her arm, holding her as she presses her forehead to his, and he can feel her trembling.

"Mary?"

She leans back a little, still holding his head in her hands, and he tries to get his arms under him, to hold his own weight because he's starting to get seriously freaked out here. It's only once she helps him sit up, when he sees the body of Samuel Winchester, that the first of the memories hits him, knocking the wind out of him and landing him flat on his back again.

"I'm sorry, John," Mary whispers. "I can explain. Everything. I just…" She turns away, her hair falling across her face and hiding her from him again. "We just need to go. Right now."

"Okay." It's obviously not what she was expecting him to say, because she whips her head around so quickly it makes John dizzy. Struggling to his feet, John waits for the world to stop spinning before answering the question in her eyes. "You're going to tell me what happened here," he says hoarsely, holding onto her arm only partly for balance. "Tell me everything, Mary. I need to know." His neck aches, and he remembers Mr. Campbell's strong hands on his face, remembers the look in his eyes and that all-too-familiar gesture. It wasn't one John ever expected to encounter on civvy street.

He knows he was dead.

Mary's looking up at him, her eyes wide as she nods, just once, and for once, John has no idea what she's thinking. Carefully, he uses his grip on her arm to pull her close, leaning on her a little more. She's crying again, clinging to him a little, and he really wants to stop the world for a while to comfort her, but they need to do something with her father's body, and he should probably call the police or something, and someone's bound to drive past at some point, even out here, and he needs answers and he needs them soon. But his head is reeling still, and thirty seconds isn't going to hurt, surely, so John just stands there for a moment, holding her tightly, pressing kisses to her hair. He's trying not to think about how she kissed him before, the distraction of her body against his, because he can't afford to lose himself again. Not yet.

When she's done sobbing for now, Mary looks up at him again. He still can't read her, can't see anything but stubborn determination in her eyes.

"I still want to take you away." He says it without thinking, and isn't really surprised when she shakes her head. Dropping her gaze, she glances over her shoulder at the body still lying in the road.

"No," she says simply. "Take me home."

 


End file.
